Sins and Virtues
by Ryuuko1
Summary: Zukocentric. Entries based on sinspride, envy, etc and virtuespatience, kindness, etc, and all are drabbles. Rated for language and mature themes.
1. Pride and Patience

Author: These are drabbles, written for a community on Livejournal, the theme being Sins/Vitrtues. You could write sins only, virtues only, or, if you're crazy like me, somehow combine the two. I claimed Zuko as my character, so these will all be Zuko-centric.

Disclaimer: If anyone anywhere convinces you that I actually own Avatar, please tell me and I will set them straight. I make no money off of my writing, and have no copyrights. Thanks.

Pride and Patience

Zuko sat in his closed, hot, stuffy room aboard a grudgingly given ship and breathed.

In.

He had been wandering the world for about a year now–a year aboard a ship with his troublesome uncle and a crew he neither liked nor respected. But he had no options left open to him except to wander on a mad quest for the Avatar. He had been gone for a hundred years; what would make this year, or the next year, or the year after that, any different? The Avatar might never appear again.

Out, a little too forcibly.

Damnit, it hurt. He had been a _prince,_ heir to the throne of the Fire Lord! What was he now? Only marginally more than a common soldier.

A brief struggle for a semblance of serenity; in.

He would show his Father that he was worthy. He would _prove_ himself to himself, his uncle, his father, and that gods-forsaken poor excuse for a human that posed as his sister.

Out, with a brief flare of fire, his hands tightening painfully on his thighs. His lips curled in a silent snarl, and the flames on the candles before him danced dangerously high, nearly licking the ceiling. The lucky prodigical bitch who sought to destroy everything he made for himself–daddy's little girl. She hadn't even _blinked_ when their mother went missing. They were both female–they should have had a mother/daughter connection, or something. Instead she had shrugged it off, throwing off a one-liner about weakness that left him seething and nursing wounded pride.

In.

Pride was all he had left to him. His pride as a soldier. Pride as a firebender. Pride as a prince. Though what was that last one worth? He was an exiled prince, he was _nothing_.

No, he had to have something left to him!

Out!

He was breathing irregularly now, good eye wide with hurt, anger, and shards of pride that were precariously balanced to form the person he identified as himself. His scar throbbed with pain and shame, and he growled, the candles before him burning furiously now, melting the wax at an alarming pace, soon to leave him in darkness. The shadows descended slowly around him, enveloping him and his pain, comforting and hiding him from the world that seemed to have forsaken him. In the darkness his pride fell to pieces and his breathing returned to normal, only the occasional hitch breaking the rhythm. There he began to pick up his pride, piece by piece, patiently placing them back to form a shattered whole.


	2. Envy and Dilligence

Disclaimer: Avatar does not belong to me. Though I do wish I could have Iroh as an uncle.

Envy and Diligence

The rest of the crew and Uncle Iroh were well asleep (except the lookout) when Zuko found his way to the deck of his ship. He walked lightly on the steel surface, wandering to no

particular point before stopping and falling into a fighting stance. He always complained that he wanted to learn more advanced moves, but all of that was primarily bravado in front of

the crew. He _knew_ that the basics were important as stepping stones to greater things, so he practiced when only the he and the lookout were awake, and by now the seaman knew

not to say anything. He breathed in, before lashing out with a kick, an arc of fire following the path of his foot. He fell into the steps of one of the most basic forms, repeating the

simple motions with practiced ease.

When he had been whole, in both body and honor, he wouldn't have shown this much diligence in learning or doing anything. There had been no need–he was a prince, and needed

to answer to nobody. But now there was something driving him to sleepless nights and restless days, ever since that day two years ago. Normally he would have called it his pride

and desire to prove himself, but really, when everything was boiled down, it was pure envy. It seemed that everyone in the world was a more powerful bender than himself; as his

father so eloquently put it, he was "lucky to be born." As if his existence was a stain on an otherwise perfect world. His steps faltered and he stopped, fists clenching, fingernails

digging painfully into his palms.

Perfect, spectacular, wonderful, talented, Azula. His stance stiffened, anger vibrating through his body. He wasn't worthless! Just because everything came so simply to her, that she

was a prodigy, didn't make him less than her. There were levels of power, and he fervently, desperately believed that through hard work anyone could surpass natural genius. Azula

was the source of all his problems, and reluctantly admitted envy was what drove him. If he captured the Avatar he was better than her, since the Avatar was supposed to be the

master of all the elements, and therefore tremendously strong.

Zuko struggled to get himself under control, but found the burning, terrifying envy would not rest until he unleashed a series of dangerous, erratic fireballs. All faded out into the sea

and left him panting, but feeling better. Back to work. Diligence and hard work would always defeat natural talent and genius.

Right?


End file.
